Cat quits Music
by mrld97
Summary: When two girls tell Cat she can't sing, she tries to let it go, but then realized no one ever actually compliments her on her singing, acting, or playing.  Will Cat leave Hollywood Arts?  Will her friends help her?  Read and review!
1. Quitting Music

**Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious.**

(Cat's POV)

I skipped back to my spot when I was done with the singing.

"Very nice, Cat. Next up, Tori Vega." Kevin said.

Kevin was giving us the weekly singing test for his class. I don't mind doing it, who doesn't like singing?

Tori sang good as usual, then a few more people went before class was dismissed.

I ran to my locker, nearly tripping in my purple heels with the straps.

"Slow down, Cat!" Beck slowed my down my grabbing my arm, making me nearly slip forward.

"Whoa!" I squealed, "I have to get to my locker! My next class is all the way across the school!"

He let go, "See you at lunch, kid!" He laughed.

I ran to my locker, and started to do the combination, when two girls in tight skirts and tank tops walked up to me. I recognized them from my last class.

"Nice singing in class, Cat." They said, high fiving each other, then putting their hands on their hips.

"Thanks!" I said, and opened my locker.

"It's called sarcasm, freak."

"W-what?" I studdered, confused.

"We're telling you that you're a bad singer!" The tall girl with brunette curly (obviously curled with an iron) snapped at me, and rolled her eyes, "Didn't know you were stupid, too."

My jaw dropped, and I clenched my books, "I'm not a bad singer!" I defended myself.

"Says who?" She replied, placing her hand back on her hip.

"Uh." No one every actually told me I wasn't a bad singer.

"Yeah. That's what I though." She smirked, and walked away with her friend.

Tears started to roll down my eyes as soon as they left, and I dropped my books on the floor and slammed my locker shut. I ran down the hallway with my hands covering my face.

"Cat?" I heard Beck's voice ask, worried, as I ran still ran down the hall.

He didn't follow, and I didn't want him too.

I ran out the school doors, and I think I saw Tori at the corner of my eye, which was now red and wet from my tears.

"Cat! What's wrong?" Tori shouted to me, "Cat!"

I ran around the corner and found a bench to sit on. I sat on it with my knees to my stomach, and I wrapped my arms around them.

I sniffled, and wiped my tears. Why am I so emotional? I can't help it. I sighed, and took a deep breath.

I hated those girls, but what if they were right?

No one compliments on my singing, or my piano playing, or trumpet playing, or harmonica playing.

Am I really terrible at it? I have to be. That's why they don't tell me I do a good job. Because I'm not good at it.

I wiped another tear, and got up, and entered the school through one of the side doors.

I walked into the room where I keep my instruments, and turned on the light. The room was empty.

I walked over to where my harmonica was, on the case on a shelf. It say's 'Cat Valentine' on it. I took it out of the case, and blew into it, making a sound that I thought was amazing, but probably terrible to everyone else.

I dropped it onto the ground, and stepped on it with my heel, giving it a good dent.

I picked it up, and walked over to the window to throw it out. I threw it pretty far, it landed on the sidewalk, and one of the screws came out, making it fall apart.

I walked across the room and picked up my trumpet case, and unlocked it.

I picked up my shiny trumpet out of the case. I thought I played well. My mom said she loved when I played.

Then I got angry. Am I even listening to myself? I just said my mom likes my music. I'm a dork, who can't play music. Mom always say they like their children's music, even when they can't play a single note right. I got so angry, I threw it onto the ground, making it make a noise that didn't sound pretty.

"UGH!" I shouted, and stomped hard onto it, multiple times.

"Cat?" I heard through the door.

André.


	2. Throwing it away

**Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious…**

André.

I froze, and then turned my body towards the window. Maybe he doesn't know it's me…

Oh wait, he said my name, didn't he? Right.

But I didn't move.

He walked over, "Wh- Cat, what did you do to your trumpet?" He asked, shocked.

I sighed, and turned around, and wiped my tears. He looked at me, his face was sincere. He looked worried.

"Cat? What happened? Tell me. Please." He said, taking another step closer.

I shook my head, just a little bit, "I…I'm quitting music." I didn't look him in the eyes.

He stood there for a minute. And then he said, "Why?"

"_Because!_" I shouted, "I'm not_ good!"_

_ "_Who said you weren't good?" He asked, looking down again, at my dead trumpet.

I sniffled, "Well, these girls… told me, that I was a bad singer. A- and, no one… ever tells me that I'm good."

His head snapped up to mine, "Cat, you are going to listen to them? You are a great musician."

He didn't say it like he meant it. At least I didn't think he did. I didn't feel the words.

I shook my head, "I'm quitting."

Decision made.

"Cat!" André argued, "If you quit that means you-"

"Have to leave Hollywood Arts. _Obviously_, thanks for that information." I snapped.

He looked at me, shocked. No one has ever seen that side of me. The side that was in a bad mood, the side that wasn't all "Miss Sunshine", the bratty, snobby, side of me.

"Cat," He said, when he recovered, "You _can't _quit. You are a good musicial. You have a future, and do you know what you area about to do to it?"

Oh, so now he was telling me that I'm not going to have a good future? I was angry. I'm sure my face matched my hair.

I didn't answer him, but I did give him a look telling him that he was getting me more mad by the second.

I walked out of the room, passing Jade, and he followed for a second, "Cat! You can't leave!"

I heard Jade ask something to André, then heard footsteps behind me.

"Hey!" Jade called to me, filled with attitude.

I whipped around, almost hitting her with my hair.

"What?" I asked.

"You're not really going, right?" She asked, a little less of her attitude this time.

"Yeah. I'm really going." I said angrily, and turned back around to walk.

Then she sped up to me, "But, Cat! Why do you think you can't play? Or sing?"

"Because no one says I can. And people said so." I said, not stopping my walking or pace.

She slowed down, but I didn't, "I tell you that you're good."

Then I stopped, "No you don't. You never did."

She didn't answer to that, "You can't let people do this to you, you know."

"Do what?"

"Break you."

"Huh?"

"You do what you want to do. If you think you are good, you are good."

"Not if everyone else thinks I'm bad."

"No one thinks you are bad! Everyone thinks you are a great musician!" She argued.

"How come they never told me, then? Hmm?"

Jade was speechless, then spoke, "Cat. I am always right. And I say you're a good musician. Alright?"

For once she didn't frighten me even a little, I didn't feel pressured to say something I didn't want to. I smiled and said, "No." Then walked away.

I didn't hear footsteps following, and I sighed.

_Lunchtime_

I already talked to my mom. She said she didn't want me to quit. Of course she didn't. But she also said she couldn't stop me from doing what I wanted to do. So, I'm quitting Hollywood Arts.

My mom called the office, and had everything settled. I'm leaving.

I shoved all my stuff from my locker into a big trash bag.

When it was all cleared out, and moved to the front of my locker. A tear rolled down my cheek.

I loved decorating this. My locker represented happiness. It was probably the most colorful locker in the school. Decorated with confetti and smiley faces and lollypops… well there used to be lollypop but they were stolen.

I had all my favorite things on this locker. Most involving music. I frowned, and gently took all the stuff off.

"Cat." I heard a voice sigh. It was Beck's voice.

I turned around, "Yeah?"

"You are making a mistake! H- how can you just pack up and leave because you don't think you are good?"

"It's not just me. Everyone doesn't think I'm good."

"No, Cat. It's just you. Did you know a lot of people didn't reach their life goal, because they lost confidence in themselves?"

"… Well, no."

"Yeah, it's true. You need to have confidence in yourself, Cat. You are a good musician, and I'm serious. You wouldn't have made it in to Hollywood Arts, if you weren't good. Don't you understand that?" He said, looking me straight in the eyes.

Ugh, why did Beck's words have to be the most intelligent, and meaningful?

I didn't speak.

"Cat, you have so much talent. Don't throw it away. People don't compliment you as much as they should." Then his eyes filled with sorrow, "I'm sorry."

My eyes became teary, and hard to see through, "You are right."

"You'll stay?" He asked, hopefully.

"I don't know."

He sighed, "Cat, you have talent."

"I'll think about it." I said, quickly.


End file.
